Preparations
by LemonStar
Summary: ..Marcus/Hermione.. Marcus had gone along with her decision because he had learned that agreeing with Hermione – especially a pregnant Hermione – was sometimes easier than arguing with her.


..xx..

There was something wonderful about waking up early – even when he had the day off from work and didn't necessarily have any reason to wake up. He could just lie in bed beneath the warm covers with his equally warm wife's body pressed next to his and he could spend the next unforeseen amount of hours with his eyes closed – drifting between asleep and awake – and his mind completely shut off.

But sometimes, on his days off, he liked to get up early nonetheless. He would open his eyes and lay there for a few minutes, his head turned on the pillow to look out window of their flat's bedroom that overlooked Diagon Alley, growing lighter with the pre-dawn hues of greys and pinks.

Next to him, his wife still slept, her breaths even and deep and she slept the sleep of someone without worry. He turned his head the other way on the pillow and he watched her. A strand of curly hair laid across her cheek and he lightly brushed it away, sure not to disturb her slumber or wake her. She stirred anyway, feeling his touch deep in her sleep, but she didn't wake. She simply moved closer to him, craving silently for more of his touch.

Her pregnant belly was pressed between them and he could feel their child stirring within as if they were also waking with the new dawn. There were just three more months and while he was getting more and more anxious to meet their baby, there was a part of him that knew he would miss moments like this.

Marcus Flint reached a hand down and rested it on his wife's belly, almost instantly feeling a small, gentle kick against his palm. He smiled and couldn't help but kiss his wife gently on the forehead.

Hermione Flint stirred at contact and her eyes slowly peeled open. "Mmmmmm?" She blinked at him, her eyes still glazed with slumber.

He shook his head. "Nothing, love. Go back to sleep," he kissed her forehead again.

"Why are you awake?" Her words were somewhat mumbled and he smiled.

"Mini-me was kicking my thigh," he said.

Despite her tiredness, she rolled her eyes and snuggled closer to him. "You know I wish you wouldn't call him that," she reminded him, her head resting on his shoulder again and her eyes sliding shut.

"Him?"

"Or her," she quickly amended.

It would have been quite simple to see what they were having. At this point in the pregnancy, even a Muggle doctor would have been able to determine it. And with their own Healer, it would have been even easier. All he would have to do is put his wand to Hermione's stomach, murmur a few soft words and either blue – for boy – or pink – for girl – sparks would fly from the end of the wand to announce the sex of their baby.

Everyone – Hermione's parents and their friends – were anxious to know which one they were going to give birth to but Hermione had wished to remain surprised until the birth and Marcus had gone along with her decision because he had learned that agreeing with Hermione – especially a pregnant Hermione – was sometimes easier than arguing with her.

Within minutes, he heard her breathing drop off and he knew she had fallen back asleep. He kept his arm around her, holding her close, and he turned his head to look back out the window. It looked like it might be a pleasant day. Maybe he and Hermione could go out for a bite to eat and maybe get a bit of shopping down. It seemed as if every other day, they thought of something else their baby would need upon their arrival in the world.

Eventually, his bladder was not going to stay ignored and Marcus nearly groaned. He did not want to leave this bed and Hermione's warmth but now that his bladder had woken up, his stomach began growling, too. He sighed heavily. His body was clearly working against him this morning.

He kissed Hermione's forehead and began slowly easing himself away from her and out of the bed. Hermione shifted but remained asleep and he went into the loo to first take care of his bladder. Coming out again, he looked to the clock and saw that it was almost nine. Perhaps he had laid about in bed long enough. He came to the bed only to kiss Hermione on the head before leaving the bedroom and padding down the hallway into their small, warm kitchen.

Another thing everyone in their life was bothering them about was getting a house and moving out of their flat in Diagon Alley. And Marcus did admit that it was a bit on the small side but they already had the second bedroom prepared as the nursery and they lived near enough to the Ministry where they both worked. They hadn't discussed moving into a house. It had just seemed like one of those conversations they hadn't had to have and they were able to agree with one another silently. They wouldn't stay in the flat forever. Just for the time being. This was their home and they were happy here.

He yawned and stretched his arms over his head and then reached into one of the cabinets, pulling down the frying pan. He then went to the refrigerator for the eggs, milk and butter and went to the stove. He heard a fluttering of wings and turning to the window, he saw an owl approaching. He opened it just in time and the owl came soaring in and landing on the table. Marcus went to the collect the piece of parchment tied to his leg and unrolled it.

_I got a new owl. His name is Martin and be nice to him. Also, give him some peanut butter and crackers if you have any. I need you and Hermione to meet me for dinner later tonight. Preferably at the Leaky Cauldron where I can get right pissed. Millicent and I broke up this morning after she caught me checking out this witch outside of Broomstix and apparently, this wasn't the first time_.

Marcus rolled his eyes at that.

_And yes, I know that Hermione is pregnant and it might be a bit unseemly to see a heavily pregnant woman in a pub but she can drink tea or something. Send Martin with your reply. _

Marcus went to the pantry and got crackers and the jar of peanut butter and fixed a few for Martin, the owl snapping his beak excitedly. He heard the floorboard in the hallway creak and turning his head, he saw Hermione coming into the kitchen. She had bought maternity clothes but still wanted to wear his tee-shirts to bed. She smiled faintly when she saw him and then she saw the owl.

"Who's that?" She asked, going to the refrigerator for the pitcher of orange juice.

"Martin. Adrian just bought him. And he wants us to go to the Leaky Cauldron with him tonight," Marcus said, returning to the stove.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him and then looked down to her pregnant belly before back to him. He smirked as he buttered the bottom of the pan.

"You can write him a response," he told his wife as he began cracking eggs into the pan next and Hermione went to Martin, taking one of the crackers from the box for herself.

She saw the letter from Adrian and she picked it up, her eyes reading it quickly. "Adrian's such an idiot," was all she said and Marcus smirked, not saying anything at all because what could be said to such a true statement? "I was thinking of names again," she swiftly changed the subject while going to the desk for some ink and a quill to write Adrian back.

Marcus still didn't say anything. Hermione had been thinking of new names for the baby, it seemed, every other day. She had been compiling a list and it was becoming the length of one of her never-ending essays in Hogwarts. The list for a daughter's name was short and only consisted of one. Sarah – after his mom. The list for a son's name, however, had nearly fifty possibilities and was only growing.

"What do you think of Nathaniel?" Hermione asked. "Or Bennett?"

Marcus grunted, scooping two fried eggs each onto two plates and coming to the table with two forks. Hermione tied the response to Martin's leg and the owl instantly flew off through the window. Marcus sat in the chair next to hers and handed her one of the forks and one of the plates and Hermione smiled at him, leaning forward and pecking a kiss on his lips.

"So no to both Nathaniel and Bennett?" She smiled, leaning back in her chair.

He was quiet for a few minutes as he ate one of his eggs and Hermione began eating one of hers, patient as she waited. She never pushed him into speaking. That was something she learned very early on in their relationship. Marcus was a man of few words – very few words – and if she pushed him into talking more, it only caused him to clamp up more.

"Alfie," Marcus finally said, more like a grunt, and Hermione smiled to herself, tucking a strand of hair behind her hair. "I think that might have been number sixteen on the list."

"Alfie," Hermione then said. "Alfred," she giggled, suddenly completely happy. "Why didn't you stop me before number seventeen then?"

He shrugged and smiled a little at her. He reached over to her and tucked the same strand of hair behind her ear that stubbornly refused to stay tucked. His hand lingered on her face and she leaned into him again, their lips paused just a hairsbreadth away from one another. Her eyes were closed and Marcus studied her face – the gentle curves and slopes, the paleness of her lips, the freckles across her nose. Sometimes, he still couldn't quite believe that she had ever agreed to marry him and had stayed married to him for all of these months and was now going to give birth to the next Flint in just a few short months.

He pushed his lips against her in a gentle kiss and Hermione lifted both hands to his cheeks.

"Want to go back to bed?" She murmured against his lips and Marcus smiled against hers.

He wanted nothing more than to return to bed but he didn't have to say that. Sometimes, she didn't need him to say anything.

..xx..


End file.
